


Like Milk

by DC_Derringer



Category: Vikings - Fandom
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Multi, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DC_Derringer/pseuds/DC_Derringer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lagertha tells Ragnar her fantasy of what she will do to Athelstan if he ever says yes to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Milk

“I bet they are like the color of milk,” Lagertha said. She was lying beside Ragnar in their small bed. The children were asleep, so they had fucked. She could feel his semen dripping out of her.

“What are the color of milk?” Ragnar asked, his voice thick with sleep and satisfaction.

“The priest’s thighs,” Lagertha said, a wicked spark lighting up her eyes. “He keeps himself so covered in that long shirt, I doubt his skin has ever been kissed by the sun. His skin must be so pale.”

“Ah, do you often think of the priest’s thighs?” Ragnar asked. The sleep was fading from his voice and he rolled over to look upon his wife.

“Yes. And his soft fingers. He neither farms nor fights. There is not a single callous on his hand. They would feel so fine against my nipples, like a kiss, and in my cunt, he would be so gentle.”

“And his cock? Like a baby’s you suppose?” Ragnar asked. His ardor was rising as his wife talked of nipples and cunts and another man touching them, though they were his. He bent his head to suckle at one of her bare nipples, and was rewarded with an encouraging tug in his hair.

“No. His prick is the great surprise, a mystery under those heavy, scratchy robes. In fact, he carries a monster, thick and bulging, intent on plundering. This is what he fears.”

“Do you imagine his cock in you, wife? What would you do with it?” Ragnar asked. His own cock was hard again and he rolled over to get between Lagertha’s thighs and slip inside her again. He could feel his come inside her, and her own juices, making the path slick and easy for him to rut.

“I would suckle it first. Wrap my lips around it until my mouth ached from the stretch. I would suck every drop of seed from the creature. While it slept, I would rub my cunt against it, and kiss the priest’s virgin lips.”

“When it wakes again,” Ragnar asked, grunting harshly as he rode Lagertha, egged on and heated by her fantasy. “What will you do?”

“I will ride it. I will tame the monster between his thighs, make it obey me and pleasure me, and ravish me again and again, until I am satisfied.”

“You would torture the poor creature, wring it until dry and limp,” Ragnar said with a laugh, knowing how hard it was to fully satisfy Lagertha.

“Yes,” Lagertha moaned, agreement with Ragnar, and the feeling of orgasm quaking through her body, answered by the spill of Ragnar’s own.

In the room beside them, separated by a thin wall of twigs, they both heard a soft, cut-off moan, muffled and aching. Ragnar and Lagertha smiled to each other.

“We should ask him again,” Ragnar said. With enough time, he could go again, or maybe take satisfaction in watching Lagertha with Athelston.

“No. Let him come to us this time. Make him regret turning us down for just a few more nights,” Lagertha whispered into Ragnar’s ear, so Athelston would not hear her.


End file.
